[ david makes a disgruntled noise at the way evan's grip tightens in his hair, tenses briefly and contemplates reaching up to grab his wrist and try to pull it away, but he thinks that would probably interrupt things here. besides which, there's something satisfying in getting that response, especially considering evan insists on being a stoic fuck about the whole thing. ]
[ stubbornly, he doesn't let his thoughts drift anywhere else. (probably because he'd have a panic attack if he did and that's the last thing anyone wants to do with a dick in their mouth.) focuses on the sensation of evan in his mouth instead, on listening to him breathe. moves a little faster, silently wishes he could take him deeper and then tries not to wonder why the fuck he thought that. ]
[ thoughts, good and bad, are rapidly evaporating in evan's head. he may not be able to ignore where he is and who's doing this, but he can ignore everything else in favor of what he's feeling.
his hips press a little more against david, trying to get more but not with any real intent. he's too drunk to be that demanding. he makes a thin, hoarse noise, something more a breath than a sound, his breathing troubled and his legs ready to give out if he lets them. his fingers tighten and loosen their grip, but there's less of the latter than the former as david keeps going.
he only lasts a few minutes before he makes a sharper sound - actually a sound, but nothing that anyone's going to hear through the walls - and his fingers scrape hard against david's scalp as he comes. he's not letting him go, at the very least, not until he's good and done. ]
[ he's paying enough attention that he recognises the noise for what it is and tries to pull back before evan finishes, uses the hand he has curled around his hip to shove him back, but there's just not much space or time for him to work with there. maybe he should've been more assertive about keeping evan's hands out of his hair, but his attention was elsewhere. extremely focused on it, in fact. he's not going to think about it. ]
[ nor is he going to stay here on his knees forever. he can reason that having the taste in his mouth is better than having the smell on his skin, but beyond making evan come, david doesn't really care about his part in this. barely even waits for him to finish before he pulls back more aggressively this time, if evan's grip is still tight enough for him to lose some hair, david doesn't even seem to care about it. ]
[ he pushes up to his feet and ambles toward the sink so he can spit in it, pours himself a fresh glass of liquor to gargle and spit that too. and then drink the rest. ]
[ evan manages to stay up when david pulls away, but only out of sheer, overwhelming spite against not just david, but the whole world. he leans his head back against the wall and catches his breath, opening his eyes in time to see david spit in the sink.
that he did it in the sink irritates him more than that he did it at all, but he's too drunk and blitzed out of his mind to make a serious complaint. he just glowers, and after a few long seconds realizes his dick is still out and pulls himself back together.
he does up his belt and then he realizes what just happened, which leaves him a little more sober than he was before. he has no idea what to do, or say. nothing in him wants to return the favor, but a part of him feels like now he owes david. which is stupid. he didn't make any demands. david did all that on his own. ]
[ for some moments, david's fairly satisfied with everything, a job well done, etc. but that fades pretty fucking fast. he sees evan out of the corner of his eye and wonders why he did that, why he just did any of this. what, some guy finds out he likes dick and that's enough for him to get on his knees and open wide? ]
[ david puts the empty glass down, trying not to look as shaken as he feels, which really isn't helped any by the discomfort of being hard as hell in his pants, but it'll go away. ]
[ wordlessly, he grabs his shirt off the side and pulls it back on. they're probably done here, he can't imagine evan's gonna want him to stick around at all and fuck knows david wants to get as far away from here as fucking possible as soon as possible. ]
[ the silence drags out. one of them has to break it eventually. they can't just stand here forever, mostly drunk and incredibly awkward.
david pulls his shirt back on, which is less of a relief now than it would have been fifteen minutes ago. maybe he should have just sucked up and beaten david unconscious. he's never had a problem beating up someone who wasn't wearing a shirt before. but - they didn't know. and he wasn't thinking like that. it's different. he has to believe that.
finally, before the tension can rip them both apart, he shoves away from the wall and grabs the vodka. pours himself another glass without looking at david, considers his drunk options, and tries not to sound as weak as he feels when he speaks. ]
[ he basically grunts it while he makes some attempt to sort himself out, tucks his shirt in (and awkwardly turns away to adjust himself in his pants so things aren't so obvious,) and does up those top few buttons, pushes his hands through his hair to make some attempt to fix what evan did to it. ]
I, uh...
[ david trails off, trying to find the words he wants to say, but words are difficult right now. we probably shouldn't go drinking again, is what he wants to say because this is dangerous. it started off dangerous but now this is approaching 'handing evan the nuclear launch codes to ruin his life' levels of fucked and he can't risk that. what if somebody saw? what if this shitty little apartment had security cameras, or some perv was at the kitchen window, watching him suck off evan fucking macmillan? yeah, evan might catch some heat, but that's nothing compared to what it would do to him. his reputation. ]
[ how's he supposed to articulate any of that? how can he do it without letting slip the extremely potent fear that surges through him at the thought of it? ]
[ he can't. so david shakes his head and waves it off. he's just drunk, that's all, don't worry about it. ]
Nah, nevermind. [ he grabs his jacket off the counter. ] See you around.
[ he can't look at david's face, but he can look in his general direction, and evan can see the uncertainty there. just as much as is in him. over what to do next and how the hell any of this is going to keep going.
the fear and dread will really hit him later, once he's sober. it'll strike like a knife to the gut when he takes a shower, because this is going to be the first thing he thinks about. right now, he just fiddles with the glass, not sure what to think or say, listening to the unspoken words between them. david's own fear and desperation.
he saw, when david was standing, the hint of what that did for him. it's harder to see now - not that he's looking.
evan nods wordlessly at david's cut-off goodbye and doesn't watch him go. he waits, though, until the door is shut and the footsteps fade out and then a few minutes after that before he sets down the glass and sinks back down to the floor, trying to rationalize everything and failing miserably.
[ david, for his part, doesn't linger. just throws on his jacket and leaves like this is all perfectly casual and normal, like the hair on the back of his neck isn't all raised in panic, like he isn't hyper aware of cold sweat beading and trailing down his back. ]
[ when the door closes behind him, david stops to catch his bearings. leans back against it and takes a deep breath as he rubs his face with both hands, swears under his breath — a little louder than he would if he were in full control of himself, and isn't that just the problem? maybe he should quit drinking — he won't, but the thought does occur to him as he's stood there. ]
[ after some moments spent just centering himself, david fumbles his phone out his pocket and makes a call. something to distract, keep him present instead of going insane over hypothetical futures where his life's ruined, and if that distraction comes with tits and always has at least one drug on hand, who could really blame him for that right now? ]
[ it's not really what he wants, but it'll do the trick. has been doing the trick for 20-odd years now. at least that's how david rationalises it as he slips easily into a smoother headspace when she picks up. it doesn't really cross his mind as he starts to walk away, whether or not evan can hear him making a booty call right now. it's not like evan was going to help him out here anyway-- it's not like david wanted him to. ]
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hardlydead) wrote2024-05-20 10:36 pm
no subject
[ stubbornly, he doesn't let his thoughts drift anywhere else. (probably because he'd have a panic attack if he did and that's the last thing anyone wants to do with a dick in their mouth.) focuses on the sensation of evan in his mouth instead, on listening to him breathe. moves a little faster, silently wishes he could take him deeper and then tries not to wonder why the fuck he thought that. ]
no subject
his hips press a little more against david, trying to get more but not with any real intent. he's too drunk to be that demanding. he makes a thin, hoarse noise, something more a breath than a sound, his breathing troubled and his legs ready to give out if he lets them. his fingers tighten and loosen their grip, but there's less of the latter than the former as david keeps going.
he only lasts a few minutes before he makes a sharper sound - actually a sound, but nothing that anyone's going to hear through the walls - and his fingers scrape hard against david's scalp as he comes. he's not letting him go, at the very least, not until he's good and done. ]
no subject
[ nor is he going to stay here on his knees forever. he can reason that having the taste in his mouth is better than having the smell on his skin, but beyond making evan come, david doesn't really care about his part in this. barely even waits for him to finish before he pulls back more aggressively this time, if evan's grip is still tight enough for him to lose some hair, david doesn't even seem to care about it. ]
[ he pushes up to his feet and ambles toward the sink so he can spit in it, pours himself a fresh glass of liquor to gargle and spit that too. and then drink the rest. ]
no subject
that he did it in the sink irritates him more than that he did it at all, but he's too drunk and blitzed out of his mind to make a serious complaint. he just glowers, and after a few long seconds realizes his dick is still out and pulls himself back together.
he does up his belt and then he realizes what just happened, which leaves him a little more sober than he was before. he has no idea what to do, or say. nothing in him wants to return the favor, but a part of him feels like now he owes david. which is stupid. he didn't make any demands. david did all that on his own. ]
no subject
[ david puts the empty glass down, trying not to look as shaken as he feels, which really isn't helped any by the discomfort of being hard as hell in his pants, but it'll go away. ]
[ wordlessly, he grabs his shirt off the side and pulls it back on. they're probably done here, he can't imagine evan's gonna want him to stick around at all and fuck knows david wants to get as far away from here as fucking possible as soon as possible. ]
no subject
david pulls his shirt back on, which is less of a relief now than it would have been fifteen minutes ago. maybe he should have just sucked up and beaten david unconscious. he's never had a problem beating up someone who wasn't wearing a shirt before. but - they didn't know. and he wasn't thinking like that. it's different. he has to believe that.
finally, before the tension can rip them both apart, he shoves away from the wall and grabs the vodka. pours himself another glass without looking at david, considers his drunk options, and tries not to sound as weak as he feels when he speaks. ]
Back door's always unlocked.
[ it doesn't work. ]
no subject
[ he basically grunts it while he makes some attempt to sort himself out, tucks his shirt in (and awkwardly turns away to adjust himself in his pants so things aren't so obvious,) and does up those top few buttons, pushes his hands through his hair to make some attempt to fix what evan did to it. ]
I, uh...
[ david trails off, trying to find the words he wants to say, but words are difficult right now. we probably shouldn't go drinking again, is what he wants to say because this is dangerous. it started off dangerous but now this is approaching 'handing evan the nuclear launch codes to ruin his life' levels of fucked and he can't risk that. what if somebody saw? what if this shitty little apartment had security cameras, or some perv was at the kitchen window, watching him suck off evan fucking macmillan? yeah, evan might catch some heat, but that's nothing compared to what it would do to him. his reputation. ]
[ how's he supposed to articulate any of that? how can he do it without letting slip the extremely potent fear that surges through him at the thought of it? ]
[ he can't. so david shakes his head and waves it off. he's just drunk, that's all, don't worry about it. ]
Nah, nevermind. [ he grabs his jacket off the counter. ] See you around.
no subject
the fear and dread will really hit him later, once he's sober. it'll strike like a knife to the gut when he takes a shower, because this is going to be the first thing he thinks about. right now, he just fiddles with the glass, not sure what to think or say, listening to the unspoken words between them. david's own fear and desperation.
he saw, when david was standing, the hint of what that did for him. it's harder to see now - not that he's looking.
evan nods wordlessly at david's cut-off goodbye and doesn't watch him go. he waits, though, until the door is shut and the footsteps fade out and then a few minutes after that before he sets down the glass and sinks back down to the floor, trying to rationalize everything and failing miserably.
he's fucked, isn't he. permanently fucked. ]
no subject
[ when the door closes behind him, david stops to catch his bearings. leans back against it and takes a deep breath as he rubs his face with both hands, swears under his breath — a little louder than he would if he were in full control of himself, and isn't that just the problem? maybe he should quit drinking — he won't,
but the thought does occur to him as he's stood there. ]
[ after some moments spent just centering himself, david fumbles his phone out his pocket and makes a call. something to distract, keep him present instead of going insane over hypothetical futures where his life's ruined, and if that distraction comes with tits and always has at least one drug on hand, who could really blame him for that right now? ]
[ it's not really what he wants, but it'll do the trick. has been doing the trick for 20-odd years now. at least that's how david rationalises it as he slips easily into a smoother headspace when she picks up. it doesn't really cross his mind as he starts to walk away, whether or not evan can hear him making a booty call right now. it's not like evan was going to help him out here anyway-- it's not like david wanted him to. ]